this was unavoidable
I blame this entirely on tumblr, Ed Stoppard's face, and Persie's fabulous lipstick.
what you'd rather hear
Sir Hallam and Lady Persie.
He first met Lady Persephone Towyn when she was sixteen and he was thirty. His train to from Bristol to Cardiff had been late, and the whole journey there he could clearly picture Agnes’ pursed lips, her exasperation written plainly across her face. Never mind the fact that the late train had been out of his control, it was a wrinkle in her meticulously planned afternoon and she would not be pleased. She had wanted to arrange this meeting for months, insisting upon it with the same fierceness that gripped her when convincing him to attend dinner parties and balls for which he had no particular inclination. But he knew this was different, knew it was because she was eager to share more of herself with him, as she always had been. He loved that about her.
So, dutifully, he arrived in Cardiff on a wet Sunday in October, yet found himself alone when he finally reached the hotel--no Agnes with a bright smile, no solemn sister (for some reason he always imagined her as solemn and pale, a ghostly maiden wasting away in a forgotten castle). Confused, he had his bags taken up to the room that Agnes had arranged for them, took a table in the tea room, and waited.
He watched the rain for a while, distracted by thoughts of the APOC situation and all the work that required his attention once he returned to London. But after his second cup of tea, he noticed a slender young girl seated at the bar staring at him with an unusual directness. Hallam nodded to her, sighing with relief when she rose from her seat and walked towards his table. It was undoubtedly Lady Persie; he could see it now.
"Sir Hallam?" she said, reaching out her hand to shake his. He rose and took it.
"Lady Persie. It is a pleasure to finally meet you."
She settled herself somewhat awkwardly into across from him, slamming her handbag down on the table with unnecessary force.
"Where’s Agnes?" he asked, seating himself once more. "I must say I was very surprised not to find her here waiting for me. As I understand it, this meeting was all her idea."
Persie rolled her eyes. "Agnes wanted to meet you at the station--I elected to stay here, out of the rain--but she found out your train had been delayed. She phoned to let me know. She would’ve been back already, but she said something about surprising you with a gift instead. There, I’ve spoiled it now." She smiled at him widely.
He watched her mouth as she spoke. Her lips were bright red, a bold color he thought she was too young for. The alluring curve of them made him uncomfortable.
"So, Sir Hallam, you’ve dragged yourself all the way out here. What do you plan to do next?"
"Ah. I intend to let Agnes direct me. She does in most things."
Persie laughed at that. "That’s my sister for you. She always has her fingers in everybody’s business and gives out sage advice for free."
This girl is not what he had expected, to be sure, but not entirely inscrutable either. He’d gotten the paleness right, for her skin was snow-white, the red lips like a bloodstain on an immaculate canvas. And she did resemble Agnes in a way, though her beauty was of a capricious sort where Agnes’ was more serene and fragile. They shared also, he believed, a certain willfulness, though he could see already that each sister employed it to different ends.
"It’s half term for you, right?"
"Yes. I am glad too. I get so bored at Saint Canna’s, I can’t stand it."
"And are you bored now?" he asked good-naturedly.
"Maybe," she said demurely with downcast eyes, the illusion betrayed by a smirk. Hallam wondered where she learned it, this facetious coyness. Not from Agnes, surely.
"You know when I was your age, I disliked school too. It wasn’t the learning itself that I minded, but the thoughtlessness of the administration and some of the other students was...well, it was enough to make anyone hate it. Boarding schools are like governments that way."
"Corrupt."
"Inefficient."
She sighed and reached for the teapot. "Well, it’s no matter to me. I’ll be free of that place soon."
"This summer you mean?"
Her mouth twisted into a smile as she concentrated on the cup of tea she was pouring. "Just in time for your wedding."
The smile became a smirk once more, a playful one but with a hint of mockery all the same. It was maddening. And Hallam found he was suddenly worried about what Agnes had told her about him, if he seemed a sycophantic fool in this girl’s eyes. God knows Agnes has been patient with him, though at times it seemed his engagement was to the Foreign Office rather than her. But he knew that no matter what Persephone Towyn thought she couldn’t possibly understand all that stood between the two of them. He decided to rise to her game with a malice that surprised him.
"I’m afraid we won’t be seeing much of you, Lady Persie, which is why it’s good that you’re here now. Agnes and I will be leaving for America shortly after the wedding, you see. I’ve been offered a position in Washington."
He watched Persie’s face as it fell. He knew he’d struck his mark, and he regretted it a little.
"But I thought I would..." Her voice faded away, yet the word London, the idea of it, hung heavily between them. A broken promise.
Washington. It was something he hadn’t even decided upon until that very moment. He’d discussed it with Agnes, of course, and her initial reluctance had been overshadowed by her desire to help him in whatever way she could. He would have to tell her that evening when they were alone together.
Persie was not sullen for long. Only a moment passed and she was staring him down again, daring him to carry on the conversation gracefully. Twelve generations worth of hard Welsh winters were in that gaze, and Hallam saw that he had been wrong to think she could be frail.
"Darling!"
He turned to see Agnes in her green wool suit approaching with a dazzling smile and a rather extravagantly wrapped package clutched beneath her arm. He looked back to Persie, but it seemed the tempest had dissipated. She was applying a fresh coat of red to her perfect lips.
He greeted Agnes with a kiss.
what you'd rather hear
Sir Hallam and Lady Persie.
He first met Lady Persephone Towyn when she was sixteen and he was thirty. His train to from Bristol to Cardiff had been late, and the whole journey there he could clearly picture Agnes’ pursed lips, her exasperation written plainly across her face. Never mind the fact that the late train had been out of his control, it was a wrinkle in her meticulously planned afternoon and she would not be pleased. She had wanted to arrange this meeting for months, insisting upon it with the same fierceness that gripped her when convincing him to attend dinner parties and balls for which he had no particular inclination. But he knew this was different, knew it was because she was eager to share more of herself with him, as she always had been. He loved that about her.
So, dutifully, he arrived in Cardiff on a wet Sunday in October, yet found himself alone when he finally reached the hotel--no Agnes with a bright smile, no solemn sister (for some reason he always imagined her as solemn and pale, a ghostly maiden wasting away in a forgotten castle). Confused, he had his bags taken up to the room that Agnes had arranged for them, took a table in the tea room, and waited.
He watched the rain for a while, distracted by thoughts of the APOC situation and all the work that required his attention once he returned to London. But after his second cup of tea, he noticed a slender young girl seated at the bar staring at him with an unusual directness. Hallam nodded to her, sighing with relief when she rose from her seat and walked towards his table. It was undoubtedly Lady Persie; he could see it now.
"Sir Hallam?" she said, reaching out her hand to shake his. He rose and took it.
"Lady Persie. It is a pleasure to finally meet you."
She settled herself somewhat awkwardly into across from him, slamming her handbag down on the table with unnecessary force.
"Where’s Agnes?" he asked, seating himself once more. "I must say I was very surprised not to find her here waiting for me. As I understand it, this meeting was all her idea."
Persie rolled her eyes. "Agnes wanted to meet you at the station--I elected to stay here, out of the rain--but she found out your train had been delayed. She phoned to let me know. She would’ve been back already, but she said something about surprising you with a gift instead. There, I’ve spoiled it now." She smiled at him widely.
He watched her mouth as she spoke. Her lips were bright red, a bold color he thought she was too young for. The alluring curve of them made him uncomfortable.
"So, Sir Hallam, you’ve dragged yourself all the way out here. What do you plan to do next?"
"Ah. I intend to let Agnes direct me. She does in most things."
Persie laughed at that. "That’s my sister for you. She always has her fingers in everybody’s business and gives out sage advice for free."
This girl is not what he had expected, to be sure, but not entirely inscrutable either. He’d gotten the paleness right, for her skin was snow-white, the red lips like a bloodstain on an immaculate canvas. And she did resemble Agnes in a way, though her beauty was of a capricious sort where Agnes’ was more serene and fragile. They shared also, he believed, a certain willfulness, though he could see already that each sister employed it to different ends.
"It’s half term for you, right?"
"Yes. I am glad too. I get so bored at Saint Canna’s, I can’t stand it."
"And are you bored now?" he asked good-naturedly.
"Maybe," she said demurely with downcast eyes, the illusion betrayed by a smirk. Hallam wondered where she learned it, this facetious coyness. Not from Agnes, surely.
"You know when I was your age, I disliked school too. It wasn’t the learning itself that I minded, but the thoughtlessness of the administration and some of the other students was...well, it was enough to make anyone hate it. Boarding schools are like governments that way."
"Corrupt."
"Inefficient."
She sighed and reached for the teapot. "Well, it’s no matter to me. I’ll be free of that place soon."
"This summer you mean?"
Her mouth twisted into a smile as she concentrated on the cup of tea she was pouring. "Just in time for your wedding."
The smile became a smirk once more, a playful one but with a hint of mockery all the same. It was maddening. And Hallam found he was suddenly worried about what Agnes had told her about him, if he seemed a sycophantic fool in this girl’s eyes. God knows Agnes has been patient with him, though at times it seemed his engagement was to the Foreign Office rather than her. But he knew that no matter what Persephone Towyn thought she couldn’t possibly understand all that stood between the two of them. He decided to rise to her game with a malice that surprised him.
"I’m afraid we won’t be seeing much of you, Lady Persie, which is why it’s good that you’re here now. Agnes and I will be leaving for America shortly after the wedding, you see. I’ve been offered a position in Washington."
He watched Persie’s face as it fell. He knew he’d struck his mark, and he regretted it a little.
"But I thought I would..." Her voice faded away, yet the word London, the idea of it, hung heavily between them. A broken promise.
Washington. It was something he hadn’t even decided upon until that very moment. He’d discussed it with Agnes, of course, and her initial reluctance had been overshadowed by her desire to help him in whatever way she could. He would have to tell her that evening when they were alone together.
Persie was not sullen for long. Only a moment passed and she was staring him down again, daring him to carry on the conversation gracefully. Twelve generations worth of hard Welsh winters were in that gaze, and Hallam saw that he had been wrong to think she could be frail.
"Darling!"
He turned to see Agnes in her green wool suit approaching with a dazzling smile and a rather extravagantly wrapped package clutched beneath her arm. He looked back to Persie, but it seemed the tempest had dissipated. She was applying a fresh coat of red to her perfect lips.
He greeted Agnes with a kiss.